


Trickster Support Group

by supercali_expiali



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Almost Completely Crack, Gen, Humor, Trickster Mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2167032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercali_expiali/pseuds/supercali_expiali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Meetings 8:30 to 10:00 Mondays and Thursdays Sit-ins Unwelcome) Where does Gabriel go when he needs some friendly advice? To a group of Tricksters who are just trying not to get ganked by hunters, and who happen to hate his guts. -OR- In Which Gabriel is Hugged by a Cherub and Everything Goes Downhill From There. Takes place during the episode "Hammer of the Gods". In which Gabriel doesn't die in the end, because he's too cool for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trickster Support Group

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea came out of nowhere, basically, and contains more original characters than canon characters. Regardless, I think it's pretty good (what do you mean being the author makes me biased?), so enjoy!

"Thank you, Eshu, that was very moving," Mr. Reynard led the group in a round of supportive applause. "Now I have a few announcements before we get this little shindig moving, folks."

Mr. Reynard was a smallish man with delicate bone-structure that gave him a slightly feminine look. A shocking orange growth haloed around his head like each strand was trying to escape his scalp. He often had to assure people that it was, in fact, natural, thank you very much. He cleared his throat and peered over his glasses (which he wore for show) at five other people seated in a blobbish shape that could be regarded as circular if observed in the dark by a severely nearsighted person.

"You may have noticed Anansi is absent this evening, the poor dear. He's currently taking a much needed vacation to the East Indies so for the next couple sessions, Eshu will lead the beginning discussion," Mr. Reynard smiled benignly at the Trickster. Eshu shrugged in response. Mr. Reynard narrowed his brown eyes (which _certainly_ had never been green, he didn't know where that rumor had been started) and frowned. He wondered if maybe Eshu wasn't the right man, er, god for the job.

"Right," he continued, "in further news, Thursday's meeting will start at nine, since the AA group is going to be doing something or other and needs the space." A couple groans resounded throughout the group. "I know, I know, but they're only human, we can't expect them to be even remotely perfe -- Saci _do_ stop poking Max with your crutch, you'll only make him cry again and it's not even 8:39 yet." A lanky black boy, who was missing a leg and wore a dusty red stocking cap, flashed a shit-eating grin in the group leader's direction. The boy jabbed a flabby white man (who wore nothing but Mr. Reynard's tweed jacket strategically placed over his lap) once more before settling back in his chair. Mr. Reynard scowled at the interruption and cleared his throat again. "As I was saying--"

"Oh, come on, Foxy. We all know the spiel, can't we skip it for once?" Coyote laced his fingers leisurely behind his head. Mr. Reynard blustered and stuttered for a few moments at the (rather attractive) Native American man (presumably, that is: Coyote had a habit of changing his appearance on an almost daily basis). The group immediately paid attention when he spoke, and though Mr. Reynard was the group leader, Coyote truly led the group. Coyote grinned at Mr. Reynard's blushing, sputtering figure before taking pity on him. "Alright, have it your way, you old pansy."

An ageless woman of an even more uncertain racial background rolled her eyes. If you looked at her closely enough and long enough, you might see something less womanly and more feathered. "If you're done tormenting him, Old Man," she said, "some of us would like to get started in the next decade." Her voice was surprisingly gravelly for a female's and gave the impression she'd been heavily smoking for the last eighty years or so.

"Thank you, Maggie," Mr. Reynard composed himself. " _As_ I was saying, the first meeting in September is cancelled because _somehow_ a whole swarm of hunters have gotten our location and are planning a 'surprise' attack." He glared at Max, whose eyes doubled, if not tripled, in size.

"I didn't mean to," he shook his chubby head vehemently, nearly knocking the jacket off his lap in the process. "I swear it."

"Max, you worthless Judeo-Christian bastard," Eshu thundered, his teeth flashing bright white in contrast to his dark skin, "you did this? Again?"

Max fidgetted uncomfortable under the weight of four Trickster gods' accusing glares. Tears welled in his eyes. Mr. Reynard hurried to remedy the situation.

"Okay, settle down, folks. We all make mistakes, some more than others," he admitted, "but we just wait for this to blow over and everything will be fine. Think about it, when the hunters realize the only monsters in this church basement are in the tortured imaginations of recovering alcoholics, we'll be in the clear. Again." He waited for the metaphorical sea to calm before soldiering on. "Now, who'd like to start this meeting off?"

Saci's hand shot up.

Mr. Reynard ignored it and desperately looked around the circle. "Anyone?"

The hand waved frantically in the air.

"I'm game if you are, my voluptuous vulpine vixen."

Six heads whipped towards the source of the intruding voice.

"Loki?" Mr. Reynard frowned when he recognized the Trickster. "Well, er, I _suppose_..."

"I thought we kicked him out," Saci pouted and folded his arms moodily over his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt.

Gabriel snapped and pointed at the boy. "Sassy Saci, my man. Glad to see you're still kicking- or should I say hopping?"

"You're not welcome, Loki," Maggie croaked, her expression dark and dangerous. "Leave."

"Ooh, Magpie," Gabriel flicked his gaze up and down her reposed figure. "You look good, did you do something with your hair?" She spat at his feet. "Okay, maybe I deserved that, but you guys can't give me the cold shoulder forever. Right, Eshu?"

Eshu mimicked Saci's posture and stared coldly at him.

"Eris, then? Wait," Gabriel looked around the circle, searching the faces only to find a chubby stranger giving him an odd look, "where's Eris?"

Coyote coughed and jerked his head in Maggie's direction. "Ask the bird."

The only woman in the group cocked her head to the side and smiled in a way that would give any man, woman, or supernatural being nightmares for the rest of his/her/its life. "I ate her," she said. Gabriel was never more thankful that he didn't need sleep.

"Uh," he blinked. "How... charming. Look, guys, I know we're not exactly bosom buddies anymore, but you're all I got so give me ten- no, make it five- minutes of your time."

Mr. Reynard bit his lip and glanced questioningly at the rest of the group. "Well, this is a _support_ group..."

"Excuse me," Max raised his hand tentatively, "do I know you?"

"It's unlikely, little angel," Maggie stroked his cheek possessively, "he's an ass of a god, even by Trickster standards." Gabriel felt his vessel break into a cold sweat.

"Since when do you let cherubs in the clubhouse? I thought sit-ins were unwelcome."

"We like the little guy," Coyote drawled, tipping his cowboy hat back. "We call him Max."

"Yes," Mr. Reynard said as Maggie continued to pet the cupid. "The poor dear is impressively terrible at his job, keeps hitting the wrong couples." He shook his head sadly. "He fits right in."

"You now have two minutes, Loki," Coyote, who had been carefully tracking the time, warned, "before Magpie pecks your eyes out. She's been a little testy lately, you know how she gets."

Gabriel did. He gulped. "So here's the thing. I've lied to you, uh, _a lot_. I'm not actually Loki, for one. As far as I know, he shacked up with a dashing young stallion a few millennia ago and hasn't been seen since."

"Then who are you?" Eshu furrowed his brow.

Recognition bloomed over the cherub's merry face. "Gabriel!" Five pairs of eyes narrowed at the angel. Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. "I knew I've seen you somewhere. Guys, this my big brother! We've never actually met," the cupid tackled his older sibling into a huge bear hug, "but I love you." Gabriel rolled his eyes heaven-wards and counted slowly to ten. _Dad give me strength_ , he thought. Max looked up adoringly at him.

" _Gabriel_ ," Coyote growled, "as in the _Archangel_ Gabriel?"

"Surprise?" Gabriel squeaked, weakly waving jazz hands above his head.

"I can't believe it," Mr. Reynard shook his head. "All those years, breaking bread with an angel of all things. No offense, Max." he added. Max sighed wistfully and snuggled his head closer to Gabriel chest.

"I feel dirty," Saci looked like he just ate something rotten. "I don't think I'll ever be clean again."

Gabriel snorted. "Like it was easy getting friendly with a bunch of second-rate pagans. And you call yourselves Tricksters. Ha!"

Eshu stood, towering over the Archangel. "Hold your tongue, Gabriel. You're nothing more than your boss' errand boy." His voice rumbled low and menacing. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"What my burly friend here is trying to say," Coyote produced a toothpick from his jean jacket and bit it, "is fly away, flyboy." He made a shooing motion.

"Hey," Gabriel hissed and pointed a finger at the group, "I didn't have to come here, you know. I could have walked away and let you all die in the Apocalypse. But I didn't." Looking intimidating was difficult when he had a naked full-grown man (ahem, _cupid_ ) clinging to him like powdered sugar to, well, everything.

"Sorry," Saci laughed, "I must have zoned out for a second there; I could've sworn you just said 'Apocalypse'. What were you saying?"

"The Apocalypse, the Last Hurrah, the final battle between Good and Evil, the celestial Superbowl, angels versus demons: winner takes it all... any of this sounding familiar?" Gabriel snapped his fingers with angelic sass. "Come on, people. Do you never pick up a newspaper? I'm pretty sure it was raining blood in Atlanta yesterday, the signs are literally everywhere."

"It's been a rough couple of months, I'll give you that," Mr. Reynard said, tapping his finger pensively against his chin. "But I chalked it up to that global heating or whatever it is humans worship these days."

"Global warming," Saci nudged him with his crutch. "And I'm pretty sure they actively deny its existence."

Mr. Reynard waved a hand dismissively. "I don't see the difference."

Coyote sighed and rubbed his temples. "Foxy, be a doll and shut up." Mr. Reynard snapped his mouth closed, a blush creeping up his neck.

"Then why are you here, _angel_?" Maggie rasped.

"Well, _sweet cheeks_ , I'm in a bit of a pickle. Ya know, with the fam," Gabriel laughed nervously and tried to pry the cherub's arms from around his torso. "Could one of you get this leech off me?"

"Your brother, your problem," Coyote said, yawning so wide his jaw looked like it came unhinged.

"And angels' domestic issues are our concern, because...?" Eshu trailed off. Mr. Reynard opened his mouth to add something but one pretty frown from Coyote conjured up another flustered fit.

"Because I could stop it," Gabriel fidgeted.

"Is your lot e-even allowed to d-do that?" Mr. Reynard stammered out. "I thought angels were gung-ho about the end of the world."

"I'd actually like to hear about stopping it," Saci interrupted Gabriel before he could start on his rant about his daddy issues and all the emotional trauma from his brothers destined to fight to the death and his favorite brother getting kicked out of heaven and blah blah blah. All that holy jazz.

The Archangel took a deep breath, a certain human's words ringing in his ears. "Maybe. I could stop it maybe. Everyone's either on Team Mikey or Team Lucy, and I'm..." Gabriel sighed and miracled a chair into existence. "I'm masquerading as Norse god with an equestrian kink, too afraid to stand up to my own family."

Saci mouthed, "Is this guy serious?" to Maggie. She examined her cuticles in response. Gabriel managed to wriggle out of Max's grip and sat down, adding his miracle chair to the circle. The cherub quickly sat cross-legged on the floor next to his brother.

"Just like old times, eh?" Gabriel grimaced.

"No," Maggie said, bored with the pity party.

"Look, gang: another group from the Island of Misfit Gods is talking war as we speak. They have no idea what they're dealing with and they're probably all going to die," Gabriel said quickly, getting to the point of his visit. "Here's a pro tip to promote a longer, healthier life: never summon Satan."

"Let me guess," Eshu returned to his seat, "Kali?"

"The very same."

"Why weren't we invited?" Saci whined, for once sounding like the young boy he appeared to be.

"Because we're just Tricksters," Coyote adjusted his hat again, "and only Loki was a major player in their eyes." He didn't seem upset by this. Eshu nodded in agreement. Coyote gestured for Gabriel to continue.

"So that's why I'm here," the angel finished with a shrug. "I'm looking for support and thought going to a priest would be like asking an Apple factory worker why my apps are running slow." There was a long pause.

"And what are you waiting for exactly?" Coyote broke the silence. "For us to hold your hand?" He rolled the toothpick across his bottom lip.

"Excuse me?" the Archangel, master of celestial back-talk, was rendered speechless by Old Man Coyote.

"Listen, Gabe, I like the world: it's big, it smells good, it's full of morons to jerk around," Coyote continued, satisfied that he had the angel's attention. "And if I know anything, you like the world too. We all do, if we're honest with ourselves. Comes with the territory; you gotta love the place to piss on it. Except the Magpie," he admitted when Maggie huffed, "she doesn't like much of anything."

"As someone who's very interested in the safety of his neck and all other body parts," Saci added, "I'd like there to be a world for me to worry about them on, yeah?" A smile slowly worked its way across Gabriel's face.

"Why are you still sitting here, boy?" Eshu growled, sounding remarkably like a proud mamma bear.

"Good question," Gabriel disappeared, leaving the flutter of wings in his wake. Max looked like he was going to cry again.

"Good luck, featherhead," Coyote murmured to the Gabriel-shaped hole in the room. 

Mr. Reynard cleared his throat after a beat of silence. "What a fantastic bonding discussion. Who'd like to share next?"

Saci immediately shot to his foot, jumping up and down on the single appendage. "Me! Me!"

"The floor is yours," Mr. Reynard said without putting up a fight. As Saci began this week's rant, Coyote caught the Fox's eye and winked, a roguish smirk on his lips. Oh, the tease! His cheeks flushed, but instead of turning into a stuttering mess, Mr. Reynard smiled coyly (if a tad shyly) and removed his glasses. He liked the surprised expression he put on Coyote's face.

Two Tricksters watched the clock eagerly. Ten o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

///////////////

Somewhere along a no-star highway in a five-star motel that hadn't existed the day before, two brothers confronted each other.

One walked away. The other did not.

Long after his brother had left, Gabriel stood above his own dead body, examining his handsome mug in the throes of death. With a wave, the mirage disappeared. The Trickster whistled a cheerful death march and started his search for a new place to lie low and maybe, just maybe, a dashing young stallion to go with it.

But if he did, well, that was between him and the horse.

**Author's Note:**

> If you were wondering, Saci is pronounced a bit like "Sah-see" or "Saucy" if you'd prefer. Thank you so much for reading (and enduring all of my OCs). Feel free to leave a comment or a sign of life if you liked this!


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